Cruel World
by Queen Tzahra
Summary: COMPLETE Fuuma follows Seishiro home after a kekkai gets destroyed. Visceral reactions and shameful satisfaction. One shot, PWP, Seishiro/Fuuma and Fuuma/Seishiro, delicious symmetry.


**Hello hello! How's everyone doing, good? I hope so.**

Um, so this is a thing I wrote. I've sort of... been weirdly fascinated by the idea of Fuuma and Seishiro together, and like, now If You Love Me, Answer Me Softly is finished and I have time before NaNoWriMo I figured, why not?

Truthfully I'm still totally unsure about this, but like, whatever. Let me just kick the hornets' nest and see what happens! The title is a Lana Del Rey song, of course.

Enjoy!

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"This again?" Seishiro asked, his tone both weary and challenging. Fuuma just tilted his head to the side, his expression impassive. Seishiro always did this. Always acted as though they didn't know exactly why Fuuma had come back to his apartment or what was coming, like it hadn't been happening practically consistently. Fuuma almost wished they could skip this step and get to it, but every moment of observation was interesting and necessary.

"You tell me," he replied, his voice low. Seishiro stared back at him a few seconds longer before turning and walking down his hallway. Fuuma waited, then followed him into his bedroom. It was dark except for the odd flickering streetlight that managed to penetrate the drawn shades. In the distance, a siren of an emergency vehicle blared as it rushed towards a totally pointless attempt to control the chaos around a fallen kekkai. The noise seemed weirdly muffled by the thick, stressed tension between them. Fuuma watched Seishiro take off his suit jacket and hang it up, then begin to undo his tie. He thought of approaching him, of wrapping his arms around him and pressing his lips into his neck, but resisted, even as heat rushed between his legs at the prospect. It was another step he wished they could skip, but again, he knew he had to move and pursue slowly. Seishiro understood this too, of course; he was also a hunter.

Instead, Fuuma contented himself with lying down in the neatly made bed and watching Seishiro's back muscles flex and extend under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. He spread his legs and drew his hand down to tease his erection through his pants. Seishiro eyed him over his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked, vaguely curious, though completely aware. Fuuma undid his pants and slipped his hand inside, his eyes still locked on Seishiro's.

"I think I'm tempting you," Fuuma replied, his voice lowering further. "And because today was so fucked up I think you'll say yes." Seishiro turned to face him properly, his arms folded in front of him.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, softly contemptuous. "For me to take out all my supposed frustrations on you by fucking you senseless?" Fuuma let out a soft laugh, though the words sent a jolt of excitement through his body.

"You wouldn't fuck me senseless," Fuuma told him, delicately, pleasing himself slightly faster. "Come inside me then leave me to fend for myself, maybe…" Seishiro's lip curled and they held each other's gaze for a few more aching seconds.

"Hands and knees," he said, finally. Fuuma made a soft, appreciative noise in his throat, careful not to sound too satisfied or excited. Seishiro crossed the room, extracted lube and a condom from his bedside table drawer and got into position on the bed.

"You got supplies for this?" Fuuma asked as Seishiro pulled his pants roughly to his knees. Seishiro let out a short, harsh laugh as he unzipped, slid on the condom and lubed himself up. He then grabbed onto Fuuma's hip with one hand and guided his erection into place with the other. In one sharp, deliberate thrust, his was inside. Fuuma let out a deep, guttural moan and grabbed onto the bed sheets. Seishiro threw his head back, mouth open in a silent groan. Without waiting for Fuuma to adjust, he pulled out and thrust back in, digging his fingernails into his skin as he moved in and out in a hard, though meticulous, rhythm. "Fuck!" Fuuma groaned. His insides were burning, but he didn't care. He tried to shift his hips slightly to find a better angle, but Seishiro held him firmly in place. "Fuck!" Seishiro laughed softly. He knew what Fuuma was looking for, but he wouldn't give it to him.

"Is this what you wanted? Are you happy?" Seishiro asked, his lip curling as he watched Fuuma's back expand and contract with his breath. He sped up his thrusts still further, going hard and deep; he didn't want to draw this out. "Answer me," he said, and though Fuuma could hear the heat in his voice, he said nothing. Seishiro's eyes narrowed and he changed his angle slightly to _ever_ so gently tease his sweet spot.

"Fuck!" Seishiro made a soft, contemptuous noise.

"Answer me," he said again, his voice lowering.

"No," Fuuma replied, his chest heaving with his breath.

"No?" Seishiro found that same, deliciously teasing angle with his next thrust. Fuuma's toes curled, but he sneered down at his fists clenched around the bed sheets.

"I want you to come inside me," he told Seishiro, always maintaining his composure.

"That's what you want?"

"Yes…"

"Shameful." Seishiro pulled out, then held tight to Fuuma's hip with one hand and ripped off the condom with the other. His heart rate spiked alarmingly as he took hold of his erection and made himself come all over Fuuma's lower back. Fuuma let out a deep moan of satisfaction and Seishiro exhaled sharply. "Shameful," he said again, zipping up at once. Fuuma rolled his eyes and collapsed onto his side, watching Seishiro retrieve his cigarettes. He sat at the edge of the bed, smoking and staring straight ahead. Outside, an emergency vehicle sped past. Its red and blue lights penetrated the thick darkness of the room and illuminated Seishiro's profile, proud and composed and disconnected.

Fuuma shifted slightly, and Seishiro looked back at him over his shoulder, exhaling smoke. Fuuma looked away at once and continued to avoid his gaze as he took hold of his erection. His insides were throbbing painfully, but that didn't bother him nearly as much as how hard he still was. He pleased himself in intense, fast strokes, thrusting his hips up into his hand. He knew Seishiro was still watching him as he rolled onto his back, and it was deeply satisfying to get his sheets this dirty. He threw his head back, eyes shut tight but mouth open in a deep, needy groan. Seishiro just kept watching, appraising and objectifying.

Eventually, he put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table. He then leaned over Fuuma and pressed his fingers up against him. "Look at me." Fuuma obeyed at once as Seishiro pushed his fingers inside. It stung, but Seishiro immediately found what he was looking for. His lip curled as Fuuma seized up around his fingers, groaning deeply. Seishiro's eyes darkened like those of a predator as he moved his fingers in and out in exactly the right way.

" _Fuck_!" Fuuma moaned, feeling _such_ a rush.

"You like this?" Seishiro asked, his voice just constricted enough for Fuuma to hear, and it only fueled his need.

"Make me come," he breathed, his erection pulsing excitedly. Seishiro's lip curled.

"Shameful." Without thinking, he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around Fuuma's erection. Fuuma took his own hand away at once and swallowed a very excited groan. He hadn't expected this, but he liked all the possibilities it held, not to mention how good it felt even though Seishiro wasn't being especially thoughtful. Fuuma thrust his hips forward into the sensations as the pressure between his legs spiked, then rushed outwards as he came all over Seishiro's hand. Fuuma's chest heaved in satisfaction, but he remained alert and kept his eyes on Seishiro as he took both his hands away. Seishiro stared at the hand covered in cum, a look of distaste on his face, then reached forward and smeared everything across Fuuma's cheek.

Seizing his chance, Fuuma licked Seishiro's palm and caught one of his fingers in his mouth. He looked Seishiro right in the eye as he sucked his finger clean.

Seishiro felt the visceral spasm of both disgust and arousal like an electric charge. He wrenched his hand out of Fuuma's mouth and slapped him, hard, across the face. They both stopped right where they were, the tension between them taut like a bowstring. Fuuma surveyed Seishiro with darkened eyes, deliciously aware of how discomposed he was. It would have been one thing if he'd shoved his fingers down his throat, or wrapped his other hand around his throat. Instead, it had been his first honest reaction to anything so far, and they both knew a line had been crossed. "Shameful," Fuuma said, softly, and then he was upon him.

Seishiro's breath caught in his chest as Fuuma shoved him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, pinning his arms to his sides. He didn't protest or struggle; he wasn't scared, though he did look away from Fuuma, his expression disdainful. Fuuma undid Seishiro's pants as he bore down upon him, an almost hungry smile on his face. He shoved his hand inside, and Seishiro tensed up against Fuuma's eagerly searching fingers, closing his eyes in spite of himself. Fuuma laughed softly and felt fresh blood surge between his legs.

"You're tight here, are you afraid?" He asked, moving his fingers around in slow, gentle circles. Seishiro remained completely still, looking away and knowing a rush of anger and disgust. "No, of course not," Fuuma continued, a soft caress in his voice. "It's just been a long time." He continued to tease Seishiro, waiting patiently for his chance. "I wonder who…?" He asked, pressing his fingers up. Seishiro said nothing. He wouldn't give Fuuma the satisfaction. "Not Subaru…" Fuuma continued, thoughtfully. Seishiro wanted this to stop, but retaliating or attacking would only let Fuuma know his discomfort. "Or maybe," Fuuma breathed, at last able to press his index finger inside. Seishiro's mouth flew open, but he made no noise. "This is the first time you've been entered this way." Fuuma pressed his second finger inside, then began to move them in and out.

Seishiro just kept breathing, willing his body to relax, though his heart refused to slow down. He didn't like this feeling, and yet… Fuuma turned his hand upwards as he stretched and explored, finding what he was looking for at once. A violent shiver ran through Seishiro's body and he made the _softest_ of noises in his throat. Shame and self-disgust flooded his chest and Fuuma laughed softly. "You could always tell me to stop," he reminded him. "You can say no at any point and I will."

Seishiro looked up at him, wanting more than anything to kill him even though it was impossible. Fuuma laughed softly again and teased Seishiro's sweet spot mercilessly with his fingers. Seishiro clenched his teeth, threw his head back and exhaled sharply through his nose, hatred and pleasure twisting his guts and shocking his nerves. "You like this, don't you?" Fuuma asked, quietly, a truly terrifying smile on his face. "I bet I could make you come this way, you're already hard again…"

"Do it if it'll satisfy you," Seishiro told him, trying to keep his voice even. However, Fuuma could definitely hear the need simmering just below.

"Don't lie," Fuuma hissed, withdrawing his fingers and reaching for the lube. "You couldn't be satisfied with just my fingers." Seishiro clenched his teeth and stared determinedly away from Fuuma, but said nothing. Fuuma lubed himself up and pulled Seishiro's pants halfway down his thighs. "You still haven't said stop," he reminded him as he rolled him onto his side before grabbing his ass and spreading him apart.

"And you've never actually made me come," Seishiro replied. Fuuma just laughed.

"You always pull out before I can," he said, reproachfully, then thrust roughly inside. Seishiro clenched his teeth and fought the small, breathy cry trying to get out of his throat. It hurt, and his heart was pounding as it hadn't done in a long time. "Fuck yes," Fuuma breathed. He closed his eyes in a moment of satisfaction before lifting Seishiro's legs up over his shoulder. He then pulled out and thrust back deep inside him. Seishiro felt every muscle in his body tense up, then shiver violently as Fuuma continued. It was unlike anything he'd felt before, and he _hated_ it, and he couldn't look at Fuuma, and he couldn't believe it was happening-

"Oh!" He gasped, actually gasped, as Fuuma found the right angle. Fuuma felt a thrill of arousal as he moved faster and faster, hitting Seishiro's sweet spot with every thrust.

"It's good, isn't it?" He asked, his lip curling. Beneath him, Seishiro was shivery, sweaty, confused and vulnerable, and it was about the _hottest_ thing Fuuma could imagine. He kept up his rhythm, groaning occasionally, though it was mostly taut, tense silence. "You can jerk yourself off," Fuuma suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. Seishiro threw him a murderous look and gripped the bed sheets on either side of him. "No?" Fuuma reached between them and took hold of Seishiro's erection, pleasing him in hard, fast strokes. There was a deep flush in Seishiro's face and neck now and he shut his eyes tight. He breathed hard through his nose, resisting his pleasure as hard as he could even as it throbbed and coursed through his body. His grip on the sheets was so hard his knuckles where white. "Come for me, Seishiro," Fuuma breathed.

"Ah-!" Seishiro came, harder than he had done in a long time, all over his shirt. His chest heaved and his mind spun with pleasure. Fuuma pulled out and lay his legs back down on the bed before climbing on top of him to straddle his hips. He then wrapped his hand around Seishiro's throat and forced him to look up.

"Watch," Fuuma said, softly, taking hold of his erection with his other hand. Seishiro fought for breath against Fuuma's grip, even though it couldn't kill him or even knock him out. It was just enough to keep his eyes open, to force him to watch Fuuma pleasing himself. "Shameful," Fuuma breathed as he came all over Seishiro's chest. Seishiro remained still, refusing to move or speak, to give Fuuma anything more. Fuuma paused, gently loosening his grip on Seishiro's throat. He considered him, spent, ashamed, discomposed, though no longer so disconnected…

Fuuma bent over Seishiro and kissed him full on the lips. Seishiro's entire body was electrified by such an unexpected sensation. He seized up against the contact, but Fuuma was suddenly gentle, and Seishiro had no idea what to do about it, except… He threw his arms around Fuuma and grabbed onto the back of his shirt as he shoved his tongue into his mouth. Fuuma groaned deeply and rolled over to pull Seishiro on top of him.

They kissed that way for hours without even realizing it. They couldn't stop, because if they broke apart even for one second it would be over. It was another siren and flashing lights of an emergency vehicle that finally brought Seishiro back to Earth. He pulled away, then rolled off of Fuuma at once. Neither of them spoke. They just stared up at the ceiling, side by side in messy clothes. Eventually, Seishiro sat up, pulled his pants back up and reached for his cigarettes. His mind was oddly blank, but he felt a deep, primal satisfaction in his whole body. He finished his cigarette, then stood up, still not looking at Fuuma.

"I'm going to take a bath," he said. "When I come back, I expect you to be gone." He strode into his bathroom and shut the door. Fuuma's lip cured and he stretched luxuriously against the pillows.

"Shameful."

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I think about reviews when I summon my kekkai, leave me some!


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